A Different Kind Of Proposal
by haveyounomercy
Summary: Sanada should've known he wouldn't get a normal proposal from Atobe. Tango Pair, one-shot.


**A/N Please excuse any OOC-ness in this, since it's my first time writing Tango Pair. Constructive criticism is welcomed with open arms. I'm not even too sure why I wrote this in the first place.**

**Anyways, this is set when the two are 27, with Sanada having a knee injury and Atobe coming back from a pro tour. They are lovers, living together.**

**Disclaimer: Let's be reasonable now, shall we?**

* * *

"Miss me?" Sanada's head snapped up from his doze. He hadn't realized he had fallen asleep on the couch, but with those two little words he had sprung back to life, not caring where he was or what he was doing.

Could it really be possible? Was that who he thought it was? Was that soothingly arrogant voice really there, after being gone for so long?

He was struck with fear, thinking it was a dream at first. Then, slowly, he lifted the book from where it was perched upon his head, and strained his ears. He needed to have a confirmation. He needed to hear that voice once again to ensure that he wasn't crazy.

"Hello?" His voice, calm and cool, amazed him. As usual, his calm front always hid most of his emotions.

"What are you doing, idiot?" The face of God appeared above Sanada. Or at least, it was the face of God to Sanada.

Because let's face it. If Yukimura is the Child of God then Atobe Keigo can only be God himself.

"Atobe?" Sanada's face was emotionless, unlike his brain, which had way too many thoughts running around. "You're back?"

"Yes. Am I not here right now?" Atobe spread his arms out, gesturing that he was very much there.

"I can see that." Sanada replied dryly.

"That's not the impression I was getting a few seconds ago." Atobe raised a dainty eyebrow.

"Atobe…" Sanada began in a warning tone. Then he paused, looking at Atobe.

It wasn't the usual ogling that he did whenever Atobe was wearing something especially _provocative_, but instead it was a deeper kind of looking. As Sanada stared at his lover, he noticed a couple of things.

Atobe looked… tired. Well, that was explainable, since he had just come back from that intense training camp/tour with the world's most famous tennis stars, but it didn't look like he was tired physically.

Sanada's eyes widened with shock. Did Atobe suffer mentally during his 3-week trip? Was the Atobe Keigo actually capable of feeling loneliness and homesick? Had Atobe missed him as much as he did him?

"Well, what?" Atobe snapped, impatient. He really didn't need Sanada to be scrutinizing him right now. What he really needed was a long, nice bath, and then a nice cuddle. Preferably from Sanada.

Sanada, seeing how snappish and uncomfortable Atobe was, sighed. "I missed you." He reached up and took a hold of Atobe's shoulders. Pulling him down slowly, he kissed Atobe gently.

And when the kiss turned a little less gentle, Sanada forced himself to push away.

"Atobe. You need rest. How about I warm up a bath for you?" The reluctant nod of Atobe sent Sanada to work.

* * *

"It's ready." Sanada descended the stairs to find no one was there. Frowning, he looked around the room.

His sharp eyes noticed that Atobe's shoes were not placed at the doorstep. Another close look revealed that Atobe's indoor slippers had been tossed away carelessly.

Now he had a pretty good idea of where the diva had gone.

Grumbling to himself, he picked up after Atobe. He should've known when he invited Atobe to live with him that he would have to become his little servant, but he had been too high on happiness to think of such a thing.

The steady _plonk, plonk, plonk_ confirmed his suspicions. He pulled his own shoes on and went to their backyard.

The house, relatively big, had been a huge mansion before. But when Sanada bought it, he knocked the building down, scaled it down to half the size, and built a tennis court in the back. After all, tennis would always be a part of his life, knee injury be damned.

That was why he was so eager to get Atobe to the top, he guessed. Not just because he wanted his lover to succeed (which he did), but he felt almost like Atobe was carrying on both of their dreams together. And Sanada had always believed in good teamwork. Along with great discipline, of course.

"Atobe. The bath is ready." He advanced towards the sweating tennis player slowly and sturdily.

"Not now, Sanada." Atobe panted, hitting the ball to the wall.

"The water's going to get cold." Sanada replied.

"I could care less." Atobe responded icily.

"What happened?" Sanada asked. Normally, Atobe wasn't this stubborn when it came to baths. He usually practically jumped into the tub, being so happy for the relaxing warm water.

"I lost. To an American. A stupid, petty American beat me. Told me I was too young to aim for the top." Atobe spat out, hitting the ball with more force each time.

"You'll show him during Wimbledon. Didn't you say that you had a new move that would be a sure-kill?" Sanada wasn't used to Atobe losing. In fact, it hit him hard. He felt his anger rising. Stupid American.

"I can't do it." Atobe said flatly. He stopped hitting the ball, letting it fall down onto the ground. "I can't do it anymore. Sanada, I failed. I tried unleashing it during the match. It was a horrible failure, and they won't ever let me forget it."

"Show it to me." Sanada cut in, not wanting to hear his lover rant on and on.

"How? You can barely run with that knee of yours." Atobe scoffed.

"Show it to me." Sanada repeated, moving to the court, leaving Atobe with no choice but to follow.

"Fine." Atobe served, and they started rallying.

A sharp pain struck Atobe, just like every time they rallied together. He took a shaky breath. It was painful to see the once great Emperor Sanada be reduced to a pitiful ball-chaser that could only hit shots that were to him. It hurt to think what Sanada would've become in the tennis world if he hadn't had that injury.

That was why he was so upset. He knew he was carrying their dream to be the best, but after losing pathetically like he had, he didn't think he was worthy anymore. He had failed both of them.

"Atobe. Concentrate." Sanada lobbed a high ball over to Atobe.

How did he keep that cool, calm exterior? Didn't he feel ashamed at the way he had to play tennis? Wasn't he upset at the cruelness that made him unable to run properly? Why did he brush it off like it was nothing? Atobe clenched his racket tightly.

He'd carry it on. He'd carry their dream on, no matter what it took. That's why he'd master this, move to Wimbledon and crush the petty American.

Atobe thought all of this as he jumped up, poised for a smash.

His shot went so far out that even Sanada couldn't say anything comforting about it.

Atobe glared at the ball. Glared at the reason for his crushed dreams. Glared at the reason for Sanada's knee.

"Your elbow." Sanada walked over to where Atobe stood. He clasped Atobe's right arm and moved it into a strange position.

"Try it now." And with that, Sanada walked back, and served a lob.

Atobe jumped and hit the ball the way Sanada had told him to do.

The smash ball curved around the posts, almost like a Boomerang Snake Smash. Then it hit the surface of Sanada's court, curved again, and landed it in front of Atobe, who made it a drop shot. Atobe himself could hardly believe the success of it.

"See? You did it." Sanada almost smiled. It caused Atobe's frown to turn into a satisfied smirk.

"Yeah. I did." Atobe flipped his hair over his shoulder. "We make a good team."

"We do. Now go get inside and take your bath." Sanada started pushing Atobe towards the house.

"But it's all cold now!" Atobe whined. "Surely you do not want this beautiful body to catch a cold because of you?"

Sanada just glared.

"Tell me when it's ready." Atobe dismissed him and plopped onto the couch, smirking.

Silently, Sanada acknowledged his loss. He went upstairs to reheat the bath.

* * *

"Sanada." Atobe whispered in his lover's ear.

"What?" Sanada turned around in the bed to face Atobe.

"I'll have you know you've become my personal trainer now." Atobe smirked.

"Yeah? And?" Sanada murmured sleepily.

"It means that you and I have to stick together for a while longer." Atobe stroked Sanada's hair softly.

"For how long?" Sanada, half-asleep, muttered.

"Well, considering how many times the glorious Atobe Keigo will need to compete and crush people in tennis…" Atobe smiled at the sound of Sanada's gentle snore.

"…It would be forever." He whispered, and kissed his lover.

The next morning, Sanada woke up with a ring on his finger.

Well, he hadn't expected a normal proposal from Atobe anyways.


End file.
